This week I ran,
I ran from home.
My father was cruel,
He treated me like,
A simple slave child.
I ran to a friends,
Trying to leave town.
We almost escaped,
Then he saw us,
He took me straight home.
Once we arrived,
I packed all my things.
As he begged me to stay,
He said something was wrong,
He wasn't sure what.
He went to the phone,
I ran out the back.
To my friends once more,
The cops have soon come,
They said, 'we can do not'.
So know here I am,
A run away girl.
No more treated as if,
I am Cinderella,
Without a kind prince.
But a prince I need not,
For I have many friends.
With many a true,
I hold them all close,
For I am Cinderella.
And one day I'll have my Prince.
Brianna Wilshusen's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Cinderella by Brianna Wilshusen )
- honneur, xxx xxx
- Take a bit less, gajanan mishra
- Right To Die, Col Muhamad Khalid Khan
- Block them, hasmukh amathalal
- Milk and wine, gajanan mishra
- Go on learning, Aftab Alam
- quand il pleut, xxx xxx
- How can I tell the truth, gajanan mishra
- A Few Beautiful Poems for Whom, for What…, Hebert Logerie
- Flash trade, hasmukh amathalal
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